


Under The Mistletoe

by JayTyHeyBye



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred - Freeform, Arthur - Freeform, Belarus wants to go with him, Christmas Fluff, England thinks he's hilarious, Feliciano - Freeform, Fluff and Crack, France is trying, Italy is sleepy, Ivan - Freeform, M/M, Mistletoe, Natalia - Freeform, Russia wants to go home, Toris - Freeform, francis - Freeform, ludwig - Freeform, matthew - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 14:27:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11442786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayTyHeyBye/pseuds/JayTyHeyBye
Summary: Francis thought he was a fucking genius. Putting Mistletoe everywhere was bound to make sure Arthur would kiss him eventually, right?





	Under The Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NadiasGhost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NadiasGhost/gifts).



> This is fluff. Pure fluff, with a lil bit of crack. I'm using the actual names for the characters so it's slightly less memey, but y'know, it's Hetalia. No matter what I do, it'll be a joke.

Francis liked to think of himself as a genius. It was Christmas Eve, and after Alfred had very loudly stated that there was no mistletoe, and this would be a, “shitty fucking party, Francie, what the fuck?”, Francis had rushed to the store and bought as much mistletoe as the man could carry. He had forced Matthew to help him put it up in each and every doorway, and while Matthew quietly muttered to himself about being taken advantage of, Francis couldn’t stop the sly smirk that had etched it’s way onto his face.

Arthur was bound to walk through one of the doorways eventually. He had to pee, or eat, or something. Arthur was curled up on the couch with a blanket, sharing a bowl of popcorn with Feliciano. Well, he had been originally. Feliciano had sprawled out across Ludwig’s lap, his head tucked carefully against his stomach. His back was to the rest of the living room, one foot dangling off the edge of the couch. Ludwig was trying his damnedest to keep a straight, stern face, but every now and then he would glance down at his “Feli” and fight back a smile, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his eyes, adjusting his legs so Feliciano wouldn’t fall off. Arthur was glaring at them, and Francis heard him mutter something about how sickeningly sweet they were. Ludwig just let out a low huff, his hand coming to rest on Feliciano’s back. 

Francis decided to camp out by the kitchen. Arthur was bound to run out of popcorn eventually! He’d have to come into the kitchen and get more. He fixed his hair, straightened out his jacket, and sucked in a sharp breath. Now all he needed to do was wait.

45 minutes passed, and Arthur had still not come to get more food. What the fuck? Francis was now sitting on the floor, his familiar pout resting on his face. He had to do something. He pushed himself to his feet, clearing his throat. 

“Oh Arthur! I made some croissants, you would like the first one, oui?” He called, and he heard a soft chuckle from the Englishman in the living room.  
“Of course, I’ll be there in a moment!” 

Francis had to stifle the excited squeal that was working it’s way up his throat. He resumed the position he had previously been in, leaning seductively up against the wall in anticipation. He closed his eyes and puckered his lips, though he broke into a smile when he heard footsteps getting closer. They stopped directly in front of him, and Francois leaned closer, humming contently. 

“Pucker up, Mon chéri, and kiss me.” 

“We kiss now?”

His eyes shot open, and when Francis realized he was mere inches away from a smiling Ivan, he couldn’t help but let out a scream. He heard a gasp and a thud as Feliciano probably fell off of Ludwig, followed by loud cackling from his boyfriend. Francis took a quick step away from Ivan, about to decline as politely as he could after a scream like that, but Natalia shoved him forcefully out of the way, leaning in close to Ivan.

“The mistletoe says we must kiss!”

The colour drained from Ivan’s face, and he grimaced.

“Oh, I hear Toris calling, I must go-” 

Natalia grabbed his wrist, not allowing the Russian to leave, and Francois slipped away before he saw a scene he didn’t exactly want to see. 

Entering the living room, he saw that Ludwig had abandoned his spot on the couch to sit beside a now very groggy Feliciano, who had slumped against his shoulder. Ludwig had a hand pressed against the small of his back, and as Francois stole their spot on the couch, he could hear Ludwig softly mumbling to the Italian.

“Feli, allow me to take you to a real bed-”

“But you’re soft and smell of pasta-”

“Only because you force fed me pasta-”

The quiet bickering carried on, eventually ending with Feliciano crawling onto Ludwig’s lap and curling up, falling back asleep.

Francis felt a hand grasp his thigh, and he looked over to see that Arthur had crawled across the couch to sit beside him, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

“I take it you didn’t enjoy your quality time with Ivan?”

Francis rolled his eyes, sinking further into the couch, grumbling.

Arthur leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his cheek, causing a soft blush to spread across Francois’s face.

“If you wanted a kiss, you could have simply asked.”

“ _Je te deteste_.”

Arthur laughed quietly, releasing his grip on Francis’ knee.

“I hate you too, dear.”


End file.
